Keep Breathing
by ProcrastinatingPrincess
Summary: It has been ten years since the fall of Lord Voldemort. Ten years since the Wizarding World rejoiced and praised Harry Potter for laying his life down to bring an end to a tyrant, but even time cannot heal all wounds. For Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, the world was an entirely new place after the war. The trick to surviving every day, they've learned, is to keep breathing. AU.
1. Good Morning

Keep Breathing

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is responsible for the beauty and magic that is Harry Potter. I am merely playing with her world.

It has been ten years since the fall of Lord Voldemort. Ten years since the Wizarding World rejoiced and praised Harry Potter for laying his life down to bring an end to a tyrant, but even time cannot heal all wounds. For Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, the world was an entirely new place after the war. The trick to surviving every day, they've learned, is to keep breathing.

AN: This is a sequel to a story on my old account: Severussnapesdaughter- Just Breathe. While it can be read on its own, I suggested heading back toward that story. I apologize in advance for the errors and understand that it may be hard to read, just bare in mind that I was sixteen when I wrote it. In this story there are a few major dates that have occurred and the timeline below will provide an overview, and the story itself will provide the rest.

TW: Mentions of Sexual Abuse, Eventual Violence, Lemons, this will change every chapter, so make sure to check it out!

Dates-

1997: Hermione's initial capture and rescue. Draco is disowned by his family. Fleur and Lupin are killed.

1998: January-Harry, Ron, and Draco set out to discover the horcruxes. Hermione and Ginny return to school. March- Hermione and Luna are used as bait. All the horcruxes are destroyed. The final battle at Malfoy Manor. Casualties include Percy Weasley, Crabbe and Goyle, Mad-Eye-Moody, Dean Thomas, and Lucius Malfoy. The birth of Teddy Lupin. The fall of Voldemort.

1999: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley get engaged.

2001: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are married.

2002: James Sirius Potter is born- Ron and Hermione are named his godparents.

2004: Albus Severus Potter is born- Draco and Tonks are named his godparents.

2005: Lily Luna Potter is born- Neville and Luna are named her godparents.

2006: The American President reveals the existence of Magic. Riots occur world wide until they are at last contained in November. A tentative peace has settled as both Magical and Non-magical governments work toward coexisting.

2007- Present.

* * *

><p>Sunlight streamed through the blinds of a slightly skewed blind, illuminating a sleeping Draco Malfoy. His bare chest rose and fell, the gentle motion peaceful to the bushy-brown haired woman whose head was resting against it. He let out small sound of content, turning his head as someone stirred beside him, "Mm, Good Morning Miss Gran-" His eyes blinked open, widening in alarm as he came face to face with bright green eyes obscured by a fringe of dark hair, "Bloody Hell," He swore, jumping back, jarring Hermione.<p>

Albus Severus giggled, bouncing on the corner of the bed, "Mornin', Uncle Draco!" He exclaimed happily, upper body covered in a strange white powder that Draco was afraid to find out the source of, but his answer came regardless of his hesitation, "James and I made breakfast!" The three year old exclaimed, bouncing harder. Hermione let out a long breath, which, to Draco, sounded an awful lot like it was covering a laugh.

"Albus...You are aware that I would have made breakfast, correct?" The platinum blonde sighed, rubbing his face to dispel the last of his sleep. He eyed his godson, wondering just how much damage had been done. Dear Merlin, how had Hermione talked him into this?

"James said you would want breakfast in bed, 'cept we can't get the oven to turn off, and it's really hot," Albus explained as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Draco's eyes widened and he quickly pulled himself out of the bed, moving past Albus.

Racing down his steps toward the kitchen, he let out a sigh of relief, glad that there were no visible flames from the stove. James, however, was covered from head to toe in sticky batter. His eyes lit up mischievously when he saw Draco, "I made food like Aunt Hermione!" He exclaimed, brandishing the large spatula proudly.

"I see that," Draco drawled, grabbing the boy's shoulder lightly and moving him away from the oven which was emitting a god-awful smell, "Go get your Godmother, James Potter." He ordered, wand out, ready for whatever he was about to find. Bracing himself, he threw the oven open, coughing against the billowing black smoke that wafted toward the ceiling. Bullocks. Draco flicked his wand, muttering an incantation under his breath and watching as the smoke was sucked into it like a vacuum.

"I'm impressed," A voice snickered from behind him, "They cook like their Uncle Draco." Hermione bounced two-year-old Lily in her arm, a hand gently locked in Albus's while James hid behind her leg, grinning like a maniac.

"Har, har," Draco snipped, but his eyes danced with an amused light. Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced back toward the charred...things at the bottom of the oven. "James. Albus." Draco raised a slim finger, beckoning them closer. The three year old at least had the decency to look afraid. James on the other hand, bolted right toward the twenty-seven year old, grinning up at him.

Merlin help him.

"Come here, Albus," Draco ordered, watching as Hermione gave him a little nudge.

Slowly, the dark haired boy moved toward James, standing slightly behind him with his thumb in his mouth, "As noble as your intentions may have been-" He glanced up toward his girlfriend, pursing his lips at the mirth her found on her face, "You aren't old enough to make breakfast with out someone's assistance. Surely your parents have taught you that?"

"Yup!" James replied cheerfully, "But our parents aren't here, and mum said we need to be extra good for you, but Dad said to give you a bit of the H-E double hockey sticks word. Mum wasn't very happy with him."

"Did he now?" Draco replied with a dry smile. Shaking his head, he pointed down the hall, "James, you first. Bath. Now." He watched the little boy scamper away, knowing full well that their paid house elf would see to it that the eldest Potter child was cleaned quickly. Silver eyes flicked down to the three year old and his heart clenched. Albus was looking up at him with tears rolling down his chubby, freckled cheeks. Kneeling down in front of him, he felt Hermione starting to clean up the rest of the mess, "Why are you crying, Albus?"

" I made you angry." The little boy replied brazenly, head bowed, "I sorry."

Draco put a finger on his chin, "You're alright, Albus. Just don't do it again, understood? I appreciate the gesture." Immediately the child perked up, throwing his flower covered arms around his Godfather, who winced, glancing down for a moment before giving him the smallest of hugs. Even after all these years it felt odd to give someone physical affection for no particular reason, "Go on after your brother. Hankle will help you." Watching the boy scurry off, once again thrilled to be alive, Draco brushed at his chest and pants, trying to get the flour off, "How did you talk me into this, Hermione Granger?" Draco sighed, turning to find the kitchen pristine once again. His gaze flicked to the gorgeous brunette leaning against the counter with a bottle in her hand, easing it gently into Lily's mouth. Her full lips curled up in a smile.

"You secretly love it, Malfoy," The muggle-born replied, shifting Lily ever so slightly. Her eyes flicked down to the baby. To most, Hermione simply looked happy. Perhaps a bit sleepy and stressed, but Draco saw so much more in that look.

"That is entirely debatable, Granger," He told her, gently rubbing her arms, "You sure you can do this?" His voice held a softness reserved only for the young woman in front of him, concern creasing his brow.

"Of course I can," Hermione replied briskly, offering him a genuine smile, "Harry and Ginny deserved a weekend away. Heaven only knows how long its been since they've had any alone time. We only work today, unless you get called in over the weekend, in which case I can handle them. Molly will be glad to have them for a few hours today, anyway." She spoke in that tone of finality she always did, leaning up to peck Draco's lips, "You need a shower, Dra." Amusement flickered over her face as she looked at him, "You've got a bit of flour on you."

"I just don't understand why Weaselbe couldn't take them," The Slytherin replied, rolling his eyes hard enough that Hermione feared they would fall out of his head. He moved around the kitchen, starting to pack his own lunch as he listened to the laughter of the children from the other room.

"You know very well why he couldn't, Draco," Hermione quipped, lifting Lily to her shoulder to burp her, "The muggles requested a conference, and with Harry taking off, they couldn't very well let their other lead Auror have the weekend off, could they?"

"Saint Weasley," Draco sighed, "Burying himself in work to hide from the fact that I stole the woman of his dreams." Chuckling, He dodged the oven-mitt tossed toward his head, "What? It's true, and you know it's true. Weasley still can't get over the fact that I'm the lucky one who gets to wake up with you every morning."

Hermione flushed, "Or unlucky. I've got to head into work early this morning, could you take them to the Burrow, please? Here," she gently shifted Lily toward his arms, watching her swat playfully at his nose.

"Charming. Hello, Newest Potter spawn-"

"Draco..."

"I say that with the warmest of regards for your father and the utmost respect for your mother for putting up with him-"

"Draco!"

Leaning over, Draco smiled, brushing his lips against the curve of Hermione's lips, "I'll take them to the burrow, Hermione."

"You're a pain, you know that?" Hermione asked, closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder, watching the baby in his arms.

Draco smiled, "Don't pretend you'd have it any other way, love."

Hermione grinned, pecking his cheek as she turned back toward their room, "Of course not, Draco. Of course not...by the way...Lily needs her diaper changed." Smirking to herself, the bushy-haired woman jogged to the room at the sound of Draco's groan. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad day.

* * *

><p>R&amp;R<p> 


	2. Of Missions and Bedtime Stories

Disclaimer: I still own nothing but a plot bunny.

AN: I realize the last chapter was mostly little fluff, and I do promise that the story will pick up pace, but I believe it is important to build something up before bringing it all crashing down!  
>TW: Nothing in this chapter.<p>

Dates- This will be the last chapter with the time line.

1997: Hermione's inertial capture and rescue. Draco is disowned by his family. Fleur and Lupin are killed.

1998: January-Harry, Ron, Draco set out to discover the Horcuxes. Hermione and Ginny return to school. March- Hermione and Luna are used as bate. All the Horcruxes are destroyed. The final battle at Malfoy Manner. Casualties include Percy Weasely, Crabe and Goyle, Mad-Eye-Moody, Dean Thomas, and Lucious Malfoy. The birth of Teddy Lupin. The fall of Voldemort.  
>1999: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasely get engaged.<p>

2001: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are married.  
>2002: James Sirius Potter is born- Ron and Hermione are named his godparents.<br>2004: Albus Severus Potter is born- Draco and Tonks are named his godparents.

2005: Lily Luna Potter is born- Neville and Luna are named her godparents.

2006: The American President revels the existence of Magic. Riots occur world wide until they are at last contained in November. A tentative peace has settled as both Magical and Non-magical governments work toward coexisting.

* * *

>2007- Present<p><p>

"Could someone please remove this owl from my office?" Hermione called out the door, "Please?" The owl was fluttering around, occasionally resting in her hair, trying to nest in the messy bun she'd haphazardly thrown up. Sighing, she rested her cheek against her hand, chocolate colored eyes flicking up as it once again started to nest, "I am not a tree," she murmured, raising her hand to try and bring it down. The damned bird decided it was going to peck angrily at her, "Damn it!" She muttered, holding her now tender finger. Whose bird it was, she had no idea, but hexing it seemed a tad over the top. Still, she was getting to that point. There was paperwork that had to be done.

"Granger, the minister wants to- is there an owl in your hair?" Finnigan questioned from the doorway, eyes wide. He would have laughed if he wasn't half afraid his old classmate was going to murder him, "Anyway, the minister would like to see you."

"Get this bloody bird out of my hair, Seamus," Hermione pleaded, standing, finding that the bird remained with her. In the back of her mind, she wondered what Shacklebolt could possibly want with her.

For the past five years, Hermione had been slowly moving her way up the ranks of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She had started with simple tasks, having spent the five years prior continuing her education, delving into research, and, of course, working toward finding a normal patch of life after the trauma she had dealt with at the hands of the Death Eaters. None of these were particularly easy tasks, but Hermione Granger was never one to back down from a challenge.

Once she had taken the position, her years of playing peacemaker between Harry and Ron and then Ron and Draco had finally come in handy. She dealt with most of Great Britain, Germany, and France, which was easy enough. The real challenge came when the American President made his decision to announce the world hidden within the world. Much like the British Prime Minister worked side by side with the Magical Prime Minister, the President of the United States was meant to work side by side with the Magical President of the US and Canada, but no one expected the new president to betray a trust that had been built for generations.

As a key asset in assisting a truce between Magical Kind and Muggles, Hermione had grown accustomed to receiving owls asking for advice, but this would be the first time she'd ever been asked to report to the minister himself. Her insides knotted slightly, but her logical mind refused to jump to conclusions.

When Seamus finally managed to get the damned owl out of her hair, Hermione found herself walking the familiar halls of the ministry, waving occasionally to anyone who called her name. She'd never been a social creature, and that hadn't changed with age, but it didn't hurt to be polite. Upon reaching the door, the young witch only had the chance to knock once before the door opened.

"Miss Granger!" Kingsley greeted, voice warm. He seemed far older than he had when she had known him in the Order, but she supposed that came with the post he'd taken, "Have a seat." He clasped his fingers together as Hermione sat without another word, brown eyes burning with curiosity, "I have an assignment for you, as well as a favor to ask."

"Of course, sir," Hermione answered politely, offering a slight smile, head tilted to the side as she wondered what he could possibly have to ask of _her. _Ron and Harry? She could imagine a million favors for him to ask of his top Aurors. Even Draco, with his small empire, could be useful to him. But Hermione? There didn't seem to be much, in her mind, that she could offer the most powerful man in Great Britain.

"Please, hear me out completely," Kingsley requested, making Hermione even more uncomfortable, but she gave him a nod of consent. "The Muggles in America are growing more and more restless," he began, "There have been reports of attacks, small, almost terrorist like factions of muggles bombing known magical households. They act quickly and adeptly, leaving nothing behind. The American Magical Government is growing restless, and they seek help to contain the problem. My issue is their demand to match violence with violence. I refuse to start a war with the Muggles until we have exhausted every other option. Understand?"

"Yes," Hermione's eyes were wide, both in alarm and disgust. People were being bombed? "It makes sense. If we fight back with force, we'll only scare the muggles that don't have a problem with us," she concluded, thrumming her fingers against the chair, "What can I do to help, sir?"

"Exactly," Kingsley agreed, clicking his tongue thoughtfully, "I need you to go to America, speak to the populace and urge the violence to stop."

"Why me?" Hermione asked, voice holding no condemnation, "Why not Harry? He defeated Voldemort, and people will know his face better than they know mine."

"I intend to send Mr. Potter with you, actually, but, Miss Granger, you do not give yourself enough credit. You were fundamental in the end of You-Know-Who's reign," The man continued, chuckling as Hermione opened her mouth to protest, "Furthermore, you are, to put it simply, a muggle born."

That shut her up pretty quickly. The scarring on her arm was evidence enough that she wouldn't want to be reminded of her blood status. Again, the minister received only a nod in response, giving him permission to continue.

"You are not only well known, but because of your blood status and the way you lived for the first eleven years of your life and every summer until you were of age, you understand muggles better than most. You are brilliant, relatable, and clever, Miss Granger, and I can think of no one else who could come up with a way to persuade this group to stand down their arms. You must show them that there is no need for war. You must show them that we are all not so different. In a way, Hermione, you and other muggle borns are the gap between our worlds."

Hermione understood, she really did, but that didn't make the task any less daunting. Letting out a long breath, she glanced up at Shacklebolt, meeting his eyes, "When do I leave?"

-

Bed time. Was that a curse word or a cheer? Draco supposed it just depended on who was asking. He wasn't a domestic man, not really, so the entire process of getting three children ready for bed, even after a night of practice, was exhausting. "Lily, dear child, stop crying." He begged, bouncing the baby on his shoulder as he paced the room currently being used as a nursery. The bald little girl, however, was having none of that. Draco could hear Albus and James bouncing around on their beds in the other room. Where was Hermione? She was good at this. He wasn't.

Moving toward the boys' room, _again,_ Draco opened the door, watching the little boys dive under their covers. Lily continued screaming in his ear. How did Potter do this? "Alright, boys, you obviously aren't tired just yet," the man sighed, noting the way James tried to pretend to snore, "So, how about you pick out a book? We can try to hear it over your sister's shouting." Plopping down in the rocking chair, he shifted so one hand was free for Albus to set a book in. Glancing at the cover, he raised an eyebrow. Muggle Fairy Tales. Huh, well, this would be an experience for all of them, "Settle into bed," he ordered, opening the page, starting to read. His voice, ever smooth and commanding seemed to capture the attention of not only the boys, but the baby in his arms. Her screams quieted down as her head rested against his shoulder, "Once upon a time, there were three bears, a momma bear, a papa bear, and a baby bear…."

Nearly an hour later, that was how Hermione found them. Draco with his voice bringing vivid pictures to life, reading to a sleeping audience if only to make sure that they remained sleeping. Leaning against the door frame, a very tired Hermione didn't announce her presence right away. Her dark eyes gleamed with admiration as she gazed at him, "You're a natural," she told him softly, moving to lift Lily from his arms.

Draco looked a little surprised, "You're home," he greeted, standing and shaking out his stiff limbs. The boys in the beds were sprawled out, James was actually snoring now, and Draco couldn't help but feel a bit proud of himself. This hadn't ever been something his father would have done for him. In fact, he couldn't recall ever having been read bedtime stories by either of his parents.

Flicking his wand, Draco dimmed the lightly with a quiet murmur, gently shutting the door behind him. As he turned, he only caught a glance of Hermione disappearing into Lily's temporary room. Moving after her, it was now his turn to lean against the doorway, eyes soft as he watched her gently tuck the baby into her bed, fingers hovering lightly on the blanket. There was longing in her eyes that made Draco want to hide her away from the pain he knew he could never really take away.

"They kept you late, Granger," Draco stated, accepting the hand she offered and tugging her toward the kitchen, "I can have Hankle prepare some food. You need to eat." Some habits really died hard, and his concern for making sure that Hermione kept her weight at a healthy level happened to be one of them.

"I can make it," She told him, voice resigned. Letting go of his hand as they reached the kitchen, she started pulling some fresh ingredients out of their fridge. The house was an odd combination of muggle and magic, something the two had agreed upon once they'd decided to move in together nearly four years prior. Draco didn't know a thing about muggle contraptions, but he loved watching her work so naturally with the objects he once would have scorned as useless.

"Alright, Granger," Draco stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "Stop trying to put off telling me why they kept you late. The bloody ministry best not be working you over-time or keeping you over the weekend. I require attention of Saturday and Sunday and we've got three children in the house that I already have to share you with."

Hermione sighed, leaning her head back against his shoulder, "They aren't making me work over the weekend, Dra." Her hands kept busy, chopping and dicing. Moving, slowly so as not to pull away from him, the muggle born mulled over how she was possibly going to tell him what would happen next.

"Then what are they making you do, Hermione?" Draco reached around, stopping her hands and gently turning her to face him. His hand moved lightly to her cheek as he searched her face, searching for something to give away what she was afraid to tell him.

"I'm going to America," Hermione blurted out, chewing on her lip as she watched shock and confusion flutter through Draco's eyes. His fingers continued lightly stroking her cheek, "Monday." That got a reaction out of him.

"Monday?" He questioned, brow furrowed, "For work, I'm assuming. You've never mentioned wanting to visit America…How long will you be gone? We were going to dinner next week, remember?" A very important dinner. A dinner Draco had been waiting to have for ten years.

"I know, I know," Hermione lightly rubbed his arms, "I just have to go make a few speeches, and then I'll be home. We can rain-check the dinner, alright?" Leaning up, she brushed her lips over his, "Please, don't be angry. I'll be home before you know it."

Draco held her close, trying to write the nasty feeling in his gut off as disappointment that he would have to wait, once again, to find the right time to propose to her. "I'm not angry, Hermione, we'll start packing tomorrow?" Relieved that he wasn't angry, Hermione nodded, kissing him again.

"I love you," She whispered.  
>"I love you, too, now," He swept her up into his arms, grinning, "Tell me about your day."<p>

R&R


	3. Riddle Me This

Disclaimer: Do I look like JK Rowling? No? Damn it. Obviously, I don't own anything.

TW: Mentions of past sexual abuse. Religious debating.

"At this time, please make sure your trays have returned to their upright position, and that all of your electronics have been put on airplane mode. Our departure will begin shortly." The voice boomed over the cabin making Hermione grip Harry's hand tighter. She hated flying on planes with a burning passion.

"I still don't believe this is going to work without magic," Ron mumbled from beside her, arms crossed and nose pressed against the window. He'd been expressing his disbelief since the minister had informed them that they would be taking the muggle mode of transportation in an effort to show the muggles that Wizards could meet their standards of living.

Couldn't it have been a boat?! Put Hermione on a broom and she could handle it. It wasn't her favorite hobby, but the families all got together occasionally for a game of Quidditch. Put her on a plane, though, and she was a nervous wreck, "Hush, Ronald."

"Hermione, I can't feel my fingers," Harry teased her gently, letting go of her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her lightly, leaning in slightly closer, "Do you need a calming draught? I packed a few bottles, just in case. Green eyes watched her face carefully, only flicking away when they started moving.

"We aren't flying, we're driving," Ron told them, pouting like an adolescent boy. He flinched when Hermione whacked his arm.

"Shut. Up. Ronald." She bit, nodding slightly to Harry, "Just half a bottle, please. If I take too much I won't be lucid for my first speech." Her voice shook, but when Harry handed her the vial, she took her time, making sure not to have too much. It was almost instantaneously effective. Leaning her head on Harry's shoulder, Hermione _almost_ laughed when Ron let out a shout of surprise as they lifted off the ground.

"Harry, look! Harry...Are you sure they aren't using magic?" He reached across Hermione, forgetting that Harry may as well have been muggleborn.

"Yes, Ron," Harry said patiently, "We've got to give them credit where credit is due." He glanced toward a muggle family across the aisle. They were all giggling at Ron, obviously amused by the wizard's amusement. Harry winked at them, glancing back to Ron who now had nearly his entire face pressed against the window.

"Blimey, Harry! We've never flown this high on brooms! Look! You can actually see the ground without the wind stinging your eyes!"

For the duration of the flight, Hermione and Harry spoke quietly, Ron occasionally joining the conversation before he was once again entranced by something muggle. The Loo was an especially exciting discovery, and on his way back, he found a muggle girl who was flying for the first time as well. Amused, the two who were more experienced with the muggle world, watched their friend.

"Kingsley was smart to do this," Harry murmured to Hermione, who's stomach had settled enough for her to munch on a bag of snacks. Giving him a small nod, full lips curved up into a smile.

"Because we're amused by Ron being naive? I swear, put the man in front of a deadly killer and he'd never smile until the job was done...put him in this tiny metal _deathtrap,_ and he's a toddler." Hermione shook her head with amused chuckle, tugging the blanket up to her chin and resting her head on Harry's shoulder. She had a feeling Draco would have been having similar reactions. Her heart gave a small pang. How she missed him already.

"Well, that," Harry conceded, pecking the top of her head, "And because, look, Hermione." He glanced around the cabin. They had come onto the plane in full wizard garb, making a point not to hide what they were, and many of the muggles had been uncomfortable. Now, listening to Ron's reactions and seeing how amused Harry and Hermione had been…

"We're showing them that we aren't that different," Hermione completed Harry's sentiment, "Ron's excitable, I am terrified of this thing, and you...well, you're you."

"What does _that_ mean?" Harry asked, dark eyebrow raising. He wasn't sure if he should be offended or complimented.

"Just that you're one of a kind, Harry Potter. Calm, collected, and yet approachable." Hermione squeezed his hand lightly, "I still don't know why you aren't the one giving the speech."

"Oh, Mione," Harry grinned, "Nice try, but that's all on you. I'm just here to keep you safe. Speech giving is all for you, now rest, you're looking a bit green."

Hermione just grumbled, turning her face against his shoulder and letting a gentle sleep wash over her.

* * *

><p>The airport in Washington D.C. was crowded enough to make Hermione uncomfortable. People stood in the corners, claiming to be selling potion, but at one whiff, anyone could figure out they were only bottles full of piss. Men and women embraced, children giggled and ran only to be tugged back by worried parents, and, most alarming, armed men and women stood along all of the exits, ever watchful. Were these bombers such a serious threat to the airport?<p>

Hermione could feel Ron and Harry hovering around her, their wands ready, their eyes peeled. Honestly, she felt the 'security' measures were all a bit too much for her tastes, but if it made them feel better, who was she to stop them? Of course, she understood their desire to keep her safe. After everything they'd all been through, she couldn't imagine ever waking up and not contacting both of them to make sure they were safe and sound. They always were, and she desperately wanted to wake up one morning without being paranoid.

All three figures seemed to calm down as they grabbed their luggage and headed out the door. Hermione suddenly felt a wave of excitement hit her, "Oh my goodness," she exclaimed, pointing toward a monument, "You realize we are in the most historical city in America, right now? We're walking on land that our ancestors fought for and lost to them…" She continued ranting as they walked, a light in her eyes that only showed up when there was the potential to learn and discover new things.

Ron and Harry exchanged amused looks as they let her speak. Eventually, they would have to take some time just to look around the city, but they had places to be, and Hermione had her first speech to give. Harry glanced in front of them, wand in his back pocket, despite Moody's warning all those years ago, "Hermione, you've drawn a crowd," he told her softly, putting a hand on her shoulder while pointing toward the small park where she would be giving her speech. There were at least three hundred people moving around, bustling and waiting for a speech that was scheduled. The area had been plastered with signs that read "Equality for All." "Magic + Technology = the Future." They were official looking, and obviously people had tried to place them strategically at all the main entrance points.

However, Hermione's gaze flicked right over them and landed on the handmade signs.  
>"God hates Magic."<p>

"Land of the Free against Magic Manipulation."

"You shall not permit a sorceress to live. Exodus 22:18."

Something unpleasant settled in her stomach as she made eye contact with a man toting a sign with a longer biblical verse. He pointed his fingers at her in the shape of a gun, whispering 'Bang'. Shocked that someone would be so blatantly terrible, Hermione let Harry usher her behind the small stage area. Now she was nervous.

"You're going to do wonderfully, Mione," Ron told her, taking her hand in his and smiling. There was a hint of longing hidden in the light blue depths, which made Hermione give his hand a small squeeze before pulling away. He really needed to accept the fact that it wasn't going to happen between them, and she didn't have the mental capacity to both talk to him again and give a speech to a crowd of people foreign to her.

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger!" A voice called as a wiry young man came rushing toward her, "Oh my God, Hermione Granger, I am a huge fan!" His arms wrapped around her tightly, catching her off guard. He beamed, pulling away enough to look at her, "I followed your story during the war, and then after, and I can't believe I'm actually going to be the one to do your makeup and hair."

Hermione blinked at him, eyes wide in alarm, "I-I..I'm sorry, but who are you?" It was alarming to say the least. Harry was the one with fan clubs, not her.

"Shit! I'm sorry! My name is Josh. Joshua Calton, Squib Make-Up Extraordinaire!" He held his hand out, light hazel eyes gleaming happily, "Now, do you prefer natural colors or shall we go a bit brighter?"

* * *

><p>The Burrow was never a particularly quiet place to be, but Draco Malfoy had come to appreciate the buzz of conversation and the constant activity, especially when Hermione was out of town. He sipped at his tea, watching with an amused face as two James Potter's ran around the house."<p>

"Teddy, stop!"  
>"I'm not Teddy! You're Teddy!"<p>

"Is it sad that I can't tell which one is actually my son?" Ginny sighed, sitting down beside Draco, Lily tucked to her bosom. Her warm brown eyes turned to the blonde man beside her, lips quirked up, "You alright there, Malfoy? You seem tired."

Draco smirked, "Very sad, She-Potter. Look at their shoes," he gestured to the doppelgangers, "Teddy has his shoes tied. James does not." Glancing back toward her, he exhaled, running a hand through slicked hair, "I don't sleep as well when she isn't around, which aggravates me to no end." He shouldn't be so hopelessly dependent on a woman. His father's voice chimed in, something from long suppressed memories. _Especially a mudblood woman._

"Huh. Well, obviously you and Hermione need to get crackin' on making babies so you can be a know-it-all father," Ginny teased, frowning at the flash of sadness in his eyes, "What was that?"

"What was what, Ginger?"

"That sadness." Ginny stated in her 'don't bull shit me' voice. Her eyebrows rose, a serious look on her face. She knew that Draco had been trying for about a year now to pop the question to Hermione, but she didn't know anything else about their relationship other than how in love they were.

"Hermione can't have children, Ginny," Draco murmured, looking away. They hadn't told anyone else, and Draco made sure never to bring the topic up around Hermione, knowing how extremely heartbreaking it was for his girlfriend. The day she'd come home in tears after a doctors nearly two years after the war had ended, Draco knew there was nothing he could offer to help heal that part of her.

"What?" Ginny asked, eyes wide in confusion and shock, "Is she infertile? Why didn't either of you tell us?" They'd all remained close after their months of living together during the war. Reaching a hand out, she touched Draco's shoulder, "You've been keeping this a secret for a really long time, Draco."

Letting out a deep breath, Draco rubbed his face before resting his hands on his legs, "When my aunt had her...she…" Old anger rekindled, his blood boiling, his heart clenching, and his jaw locking, "There were so many things they did to her, Ginny. I don't know how she…" He only unclenched his hand when Ginny gently rested her hand on his, eyes soft, "One of the things she did...the cruciatus as she was being brutalized with Bella's wand….It destroyed the lining in her uterus...killed her eggs."

Ginny matched his anger, but took a few deep breaths, "Hold my baby before I smack curse something," She muttered, tossing Lily off to him and whipping out her wand. "Fred!" She called, and Draco burst into laughter as she took off to take her anger out on her brother with a good, old-fashioned bat-bogey hex. Draco knew she wouldn't say anything, but Salazar, it felt good for someone else to finally know.

"Draco! Ginny! Come out h- No, Victoire, that is not a snack, I know it is colorful- Molly! Tonks, Please, get your daughter-" Mr. Weasley's voice carried across the yard from his shed, making Draco chuckle. Standing with the youngest Potter child, Draco started walking across the high grass.

When he arrived at the shed, he raised an amused eyebrow. The building was much bigger than it appeared to be on the outside, filled to the brim with all sorts of half build muggle objects. There were bits of a toaster shoved against a vacuum cleaner that caught Draco's eye as particularly dangerous, but none the less, he couldn't help but wonder just went through the older wizard's head when he was working.

Arthur Weasely was wrestling a chord away from his granddaughter, plucking her up, "That isn't a toy." He scolded with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder as the others piled in behind him.

"Getting a bit packed isn't it, Dad?" Tonks teased, rescuing her toddler from her father-in-law. She bounced the tawny haired child, eyes their natural brown today, while her hair stood up on end, a bright green color that reminded Draco of the spring time.

"Arthur," Mrs. Weasely huffed, "I thought we talked about the muggle ovenmits-"

"We'll talk later, dear," Mr. Weasely quickly interjected, clearing his throat, "I happened upon this last week and I've been trying to get the darned thing to work for-"

"Is that a Telibvision thingy?" Tonks asked, eyes lighting up, "Look! Its Hermione and Ron and Harry!" _That_ got everyone to shut up and start moving toward the small television hooked up in the corner.

Draco's heart skipped a beat as he handed Lily off to an empty pair of hands, taking a step toward it. Sure enough, Hermione was on a stage with Ron and Harry a bit behind her. Draco crossed his legs, sitting down, watching with slight awe.

"Mercy, she looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Molly sighed, "Can we hear what she's saying or do muggles just watch their lips move?"

She did look beautiful. Her hair, usually pulled up in hopes to keep the wild curls under control, was laying in perfect waves around her face, her lips painted a bold red and her eyes outlined with smokey greys and a hint of gold. Someone had had the good sense to find her a form fitting dress suit to replace her robes, which usually hid the womanly figure she'd grown into over the years. Draco wanted to reach out and take her hand, but Hermione had made him watch enough television to realize that he couldn't actually touch her through the screen. With that in mind, however, he did know how to work the sound. Reaching out, he found one of the buttons, turning it up. Hermione's voice crackled out of the speakers.

"We aren't so different, really, when you break it down," she was concluding, smiling to her audience, "We all just want to live peacefully, which is why, again, I implore the group committing these heinous terrorist attacks to cease their fire. There are so many ways we can help each other. Does anyone have any questions?"

The camera panned across the crowd as she pointed toward a figure. It landed on a plump woman with a notepad and a pen, "If we can achieve so much together, why is it you've tried to hide from us for so long?"

"Good question, and honestly, I don't have the answer for you," Hermione replied with ease, "If I had to guess, I'd assume that fear is a large factor. There are more of you than there are of us, and, yes, there are bigots in the wizarding world whose voices have, unfortunately, been loud enough to cancel out common sense. In my opinion, its better that you know. As a muggle-born, my life would have been considerably easier if my parents had known that magic existed when I was younger. Now that we are out in the open, I honestly think our children and grandchildren will be able to have brighter lives."

Draco smiled as she took a few more questions, glancing around at the other faces in the room. Everyone was captivated by the small box, just as he had been the first time Hermione had sat him down before one. His inner pureblood bastard was cringing, but he squashed it down. She was right, and it was good to see her expressing those beliefs in such a public forum. His head snapped toward the TV when he heard the start of the next question, however, anger boiling in his veins.

"Witch," A man with cold blue eyes spat, toting a sign spewing some sort of hatred, "You've asked us to accept Satan into our lives. You've spoken of equality, but how can you justify a satanic practice, run by whores and-"

"Now, just a bloomin minute-" Ron started to protest, and Draco found himself once again grateful for the ginger man. Hermione, though, simply held her hand up to Ron, facing the man with cool eyes.

"I am not asking you to accept Satan into your life at all," Hermione told him, reaching for the necklace that she seldom took off. It was a silver cross, simple, but beautiful.

"The bible says-"

"I am not here to argue about the bible," Hermione cut him off this time, "But I will tell you that children are born with magic. There is nothing they can do about the fact, and your close minded words aren't surprising really. Tell me, if your God had a problem with magic, why would he fill the world with it? Religion and Magic, much like Religion and Science, and Science and Magic, are not entities. In fact, they are all deeply interwoven. You do not have to practice magic. You do not have to invite magic wielding people into your lives. All we are asking is for the violence to stop. Yo- These bombers are killing innocent people. We can't control having been born with magic any more than you can control what color your eyes are."

The man fell silent for a moment before he started shouting more bible verses, most of them directed directly at Hermione. Draco wanted to rip his eyes out, but, once again, Hermione amazed him.

"For by Him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities- all things were created through Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.- Colossians." Hermione quoted, earning herself scattered applause from the audience, "Do not quote bible verses at me, sir, because I promise, I will have a rebuttal to every one." She looked away from him now, smiling at the rest of the crowd, "There isn't enough time in the world to discuss religions and come to an agreement, but I think this is proof enough of one thing. We all have opinions. We all have wants, and we all have beliefs- Just like you. The Non-magical history is filled with people that have fought and sought to end groups who don't see things they way they do. The wizarding history is filled with the same thing, but I hope we have all learned that there are better ways to deal with disagreements. We are all the same, because we are different, and I know that if we work together, we can do wonderful things. Thank you for your time, but there is an angry sports team who would very much like us to move along so that they can practice."

Spots of laughter rose from the audience, followed by thunderous applause. Harry and Ron flanked closer to Hermione, helping her off the stage just a reporter stepped in front of the camera, "And there you have it. Hermione Granger, all the way from London, has given everyone a lot to think about today. I honestly look forward to hearing more of her speeches. Reporting live from Washington DC, back to you, Jim."

The small shack filled with chatter, and Draco tore his gaze away from the screen, pursing his lips, "I don't know about you lot," he cleared his throat, "But I have the sudden urge to travel to America. Who's with me?"


	4. Surprise!

AN: I know this is short, but there was a good bit to pack into this. Reviews are always appreciated!  
>Disclaimer: I own most of the annoying characters in this chapter, but I still don't own the world or the familiar characters we all know and love.<p>

* * *

><p>Two days, five speeches, and many, many cups of tea later, and Hermione was still not accustomed to the time difference between here and home. She was draped across the bed, smiling up into the hand-sized compact that Draco had given her just before she'd departed for the airport. Not the vain sort, it would have been odd to see Hermione Granger gazing into a mirror had it been her reflection looking back at her. As it was, it was not her reflection, but her boyfriend's face, "Come on, Malfoy, you've got to give me a hint. You know I don't like surprises."<p>

Draco snickered, pursing his lips at her, "I know you don't, but thats half the fun, isn't it? I hope you'll like this one. You just have to be patient." Little did she know that he and Ginny were waiting at the ministry for the green light to floo overseas. It took a bit longer to process requests like this, and a special sort of fireplace so that the occupants wouldn't get sick thanks to the long distance. Still, they were so close, "What time is it there?"

"It is only three o'clock in the afternoon," Hermione groaned, letting her head flop down on the bed, "I'm so bloody tired, Dra, and I still have another speech to give in an hour."

"How are those going?" Draco asked curiously, crossing a long leg over the other in attempts to get comfortable.

"Pretty well, actually," Hermione admitted, a proud light gleaming in her eyes, "And there hasn't been any sign of the terrorist group. I think I'm making a difference, Draco-"

"A lot bigger difference than Spew!" Ron chimed in from across the room, looking up from his chess match to grin in her direction. He dodged the pillow she tossed at him.

"S.P.E.W," Hermione snapped, indigent, "Not 'spew'." She glanced toward the door as Harry came back, two boxes of Pizza in his arms. Her stomach gave a rumble and she sat up, grinning, "Alright, Malfoy, I'm going to eat, I'll call you back, alright?"

Draco chuckled, knowing that Ginny had let Harry in on the plan, "Alright. I love you, Granger. Enjoy your food." And the line disconnected as Hermione moved toward Harry, taking a slice of pizza before she plopped down next to Ron. She saw the way he was watching her and sighed, rolling her eyes and setting the pizza down.

"Out with it."

Ron blinked, shaking his head and holding his hands up defensively, "I didn't say anything, 'Mione. I don't know what-"

"I can smell your brain working, Ronald," Hermione told her, exasperated, "You've wanted to say something for a long time now, and you're one of my best friends, so I suggest you say it now before it becomes a bloody problem."

Ron's face flushed deep red to the tip of his ears. Hermione was cursing, which meant he was in trouble, "I've just never understood you and Malfoy's...relationship. That's all…"

Harry, tactfully, remained silent as he ate his pizza, moving to go through some paperwork. Hermione sighed again, "What do you mean?"

"Just..I know he was there when you- during the last war, and I know he helped us. Hell, after the bloody camping trip Harry and I went on with him, I can't even hate him anymore, but he was terrible to you in school. He still walks around with his nose in the air like he's better than everyone else, and you two bicker-"

"You and I bicker all the time, Ron," Hermione pointed out, before realizing with a wince that it didn't help her situation. Smoothing down her pajama pants, Hermione chewed lightly on her lip, "During the last war, he saved my life, yes. He saved countless peoples lives, but there is more to it than that, Ron. We...understand each other. I was the first person, I think, to see him as Draco, and not just another Malfoy, and he was the one to bring me out of something I didn't think I could possibly come out of. Yes, he's still arrogant in public, but I don't know if you realize how much people have thrown at him. He's hated on both sides. The remaining Death Eaters see him as a traitor, and most of our side really have no clue what all he did for us. I love him, Ron, for being him, and that's about as simple as I can make it." She shrugged, watching her friend's face, half expecting him to be angry.

He didn't seem angry; just thoughtful. Nodding ever so slightly, he took a bite of his pizza. Satisfied that he wouldn't bring it up again any time soon, Hermione reached for her own slice again.

And then the world shook.

Literally the entire hotel quaked under them. Hermione fell off of the bed as Ron was tossed farther against the head board, Harry joining Hermione on the floor.

"What the-" Harry started before his eyes widened and his wand was out, "Bombs. We're being bo-" Before he could finish the sentiment, the second one went off, and the world was filled with fire.

* * *

><p>"Its about damn time!" Ginny scowled, brushing herself off as she stepped out of the large fire place at the capital building in Washington DC. Draco followed her out, looking a bit green. The red-haired woman turned to him, making sure he was still behind her.<p>

Draco's nose was scrunched up, "I've always hated the floo." He grumbled to himself, glancing around, "I didn't expect it to be quite so noisy. I shouldn't be surprised...Americans." Sure enough, the sound of shouting and alarms and stressful chatter consumed the hall they'd entered.

"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to step away from the fire place," a Security Wizard ordered, coming toward them, "We've got people to send through. We are also asking that anyone coming through at this point in time remain in the building until you've been cleared to go."

Puzzled, the two Brits exchanged glances, "Our arrival was expected. The Minister of Magic himse-"

The security guard cut Draco off with a hand, "Expected or not, the building is on high alert, as are most places in the building where Witches and Wizards are expected to arrive."

"What's happening?" Ginny asked, stepping toward him, completely serious now, "Why are Witches and Wizards causing a high alert?" This wasn't at all how she intended to meet her husband, brother, and friend.

"It isn't the Witches and Wizards that are causing it. We simply want to offer protection," Came the strained reply, "There's been another bombing."

Draco's heart lurched and, for once, he didn't pull away as Ginny snatched his hand, "Where? Was anyone hurt?" It wasn't their people. It couldn't be their people. They'd just spoken to them not even half an hour before.

"The hotel down the street. It happened not even ten minutes ago, so we don't know anything- OI! You can't go there!" The guard shouted as the blonde and the red-head bolted toward the doors, slipping past the guards. They couldn't go there? Just watch them.

"Weasley, you don't think-?" Draco dared to ask as they moved out into the crisp fall air. His gaze moved toward the black smoke that was billowing toward them, caught on the wind. It was obvious where it was coming from, and Ginny did not even spare a breath to answer him. Instead, she took off again, holding his hand tight enough to cut off circulation. Ambulances and fire trucks zoomed past them.

"Hey! You can't get any closer!" A woman came jogging toward them, her face smeared with black, "We don't know if there are any more bombs and you'll get in the way of the rescue team."

Draco had his wand out, but Ginny shoved it down, looking at the woman, "We believe that our family was in the hotel," she explained, out of breath. She said the name of the hotel, and the woman nodded grimly toward her, confirming their fears, "Are there people still in there?"

"There isn't much of a 'there', honestly. The bastards pretty much blasted it to smithereens." A voice crackled out of her walkie-talkie, and she brought it to her ear, stepping away to respond for a moment before turning back to them, "We think we've gotten nearly everyone out. Only about five people haven't been confirmed dead or taken to the Emergency room. I'm not allowed to give you much information, but," her eyes flicked around. Most people had moved farther down, so she had a bit of leeway, "I have a list, and if you tell me what room number your family was in, I can tell you if they've been found or not."

Draco's eyes were glued to the billowing flames, wide and afraid. She couldn't have been in there. He wouldn't believe it. Dragging his gaze back to the woman, he choked out the room number, watching her speak into the walkie-talkie again. Turning back to them, she grimaced, pointing to an ambulance that was whirling past, "We've got one person from that room being transported to the E.R. Don't know which one, but you're best bet is to follow that vehicle."

"Thank you," Ginny told the woman sincerely, checking her badge and tucking the name into the back of her mind, "Come on, Draco." Still holding his hand, she dragged him toward the road, which had been shut down to everything except for medical and police officers. The world was a blur as they ran, both hoping against hope that it would be a specific person in that ambulance.

It took them nearly an hour to fight through the crowd of worried family members and grieving friends. "Hermione Granger," Draco snapped at the frazzled looking woman behind the counter at the same moment Ginny was shouting, "Harry Potter! Ron Weasely!"

The woman, whose name tag read 'Hannah', glared at them, "If you want something from me, you are going to have to be a bit more specific than shouting names at me!"

Draco sneered, panicked and afraid, "Obviously," he drawled, "We are looking for Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasely." His fingers strummed against the counter. He hated hospitals and this one was no different. The sound of alarms and beeping set him on edge, and this woman wasn't moving fast enough.

The woman huffed, angry, "I'll need to see some registration. The patient you're asking about is apparently very important at this point in time-"

"The fucking minister of magic sent us here," Draco snarled, shoving credentials under her nose, "Is that proof enough or do I need to-" Ginny shoved him to get him to shut up, brown eyes glaring at the woman.

"Just give us a room number," Ginny ordered, flashing her own credentials.

Cowed, Hannah flipped through pages again, "Fourth Floor, room 409." The same room they'd been in at the hotel. Draco didn't have time to dwell on the irony before he was moving through the halls, Ginny at his heals.

"Draco...there's only one of them here," She hissed, "One of us should make sure that we're informed when the others are found."

The blonde only nodded, climbing up the stairs two at a time. He ignored the annoyed huff from behind him. She would wait, and he knew it. Both of them wanted to know which of their loved ones were there now.

Draco didn't hesitate as he shoved the door open, unable to conceal the disappointment when his eyes landed on a patch of bright red hair against the white sheets.

"Ron."


End file.
